


Come Moonlight

by caitbalfes (ladybeauchamp)



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-10 08:51:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13498666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybeauchamp/pseuds/caitbalfes
Summary: While out collecting rent with the MacKenzies, Jamie catches a thief.





	Come Moonlight

Jamie was tired. Night after night he listened to his uncle’s passionate speech, felt the chilly air on his scarred back as his shirt was torn from him, sitting, back displayed to gasps of shock. He heard the coins chink as the inflamed Scots happily contributed to a cause that was likely to go nowhere. Jamie was tired of this tune, repeated daily, until the MacKenzies were done collecting rent.

Every day was the same, until one fateful evening.

Dougal had, as always, invited the tenants for food and drink—and a front row seat to Jamie’s horrid scars.

Jamie noticed a scrawny lad, tall enough to be of an age with Jamie, who was nineteen, but with boyish features. The lad’s face was dirty, but beneath the grime Jamie could see no hint of facial hair.

What made this lad stand out in particular to Jamie was his attempt at staying in the shadows and keep out of sight as much as possible. Whenever someone offered him food or drink, he’d nod or shake his head, lips pressed tightly together as to not let a single sound escape.

What did the lad hide in his mouth?

Then his shirt was ripped apart once more and Jamie’s indignation resurfaced, as it did every night. The scrawny lad was forgotten.

* * *

The next night, Jamie noticed the same lad he’d seen yesterday. Of course, they didn’t visit the same tenants to collect rent twice, so why would this boy make a second appearance in the audience? When the show was over, he would have to find out how that scrawny wee thing had followed them without getting caught by Dougal and the others.

Speech. Rip. Gasps. Coin.

The night followed the same familiar pattern. Though Jamie made sure to always keep the lad in sight, lest he decided to disappear before the main act. Luckily, for Jamie at least, the clever lad decided to help himself to more food when everyone else’s attention was averted, distracted by cruel English justice.

When Jamie had played his part, he didn’t stay to watch his uncle’s pleased grin, he followed the thieving lad outside.

“Where do ye think you’re going?” said Jamie, sounding an awful lot like his uncle—either one—much to his distaste.

The lad froze. He knew what Jamie did, that Jamie was bigger, stronger, and this scrawny wee thing would never get away if Jamie had a mind not to let him.

However, that didn’t mean the lad was about to cooperate. His mouth remained closed. _Stubborn wee thing!_

Jamie grabbed hold of the boy’s arm, not so much to prevent him fleeing as to intimidate him. “Who are you?”

The lad shook his head.

“I’ll ask again,” said Jamie, slowly. “Who are you?”

Still, the lad refused to speak.

“I don’t mean to harm ye. I thought perhaps I could _help_ ye, if you need help?”

The lad’s golden eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Jamie sighed. He let go of the lad’s arm, indicating good faith. “See,” he said, “I’m no trying to hold ye captive, I only wish to ken whether ye might be in trouble.”

The lad’s shoulders slumped. “Harry,” he mumbled.

“Where are ye from, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, lips sealed shut again. While his body language suggested fear or perhaps timidity, Harry’s eyes were a contradiction. It wasn’t fear that kept his words in; it was a considerate decision.

“How about this,” said Jamie, “ye either tell me who ye are and where ye come from, or I’ll inform my uncle you were thieving from him. I can assure you my uncle isna as _forgiving_ as I.”

Harry took a deep breath. “Well, ye already ken my name. I’m no one from nowhere. Just a simple thief from the streets, aye? Will ye let me go now?”

Jamie resisted the urge to laugh—though it was difficult. “Lad, I dinna ken who ye really are, but ye’re no Scottish, that I ken.”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “That bad was it?”

Ah, so that’s what he’d been hiding—his true speech, his _English_ accent. The scrawny wee lad was a Sassenach.

“Aye, truly the worst accent I’ve heard in my life.”

Jamie did wonder how a lowborn Sassenach had ended up in the Highlands, so far away from home. Harry was clearly destitute, so for him to manage to reach the Scottish Highlands, possibly on foot, must’ve taken some time. He must be a clever lad to have kept himself alive for all that time.

While Jamie didn’t approve of thievery, he could tell this Harry was clearly desperate. Jamie had meant it when he said he meant to help the lad. If he could secure work for Harry at Leoch, perhaps in the stables, then he could earn money and not have to resort to thievery to feed himself.

“Harry, how would ye like to earn a wage?”


End file.
